


if your fancy suit can get destroyed, it will get destroyed

by Lozzy_Senpai



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, Banter, Blood and Gore, Bokuto is a dork, Fluff and Angst, Guns, Hurt/Comfort, I wouldn't call it torture but it's not a million miles off, I've been in quarantine for months and I'm bored af, Interrogation, M/M, Violence, akaashi and kenma do not take any shit, call their relationship what you want, kuroo is also a dork, oikawa and iwaizumi are spy partners and they love each other, you have to squint for the kuroken / bokuaka
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:48:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24724060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lozzy_Senpai/pseuds/Lozzy_Senpai
Summary: “Jeez Iwa-chan,” Oikawa tutted as he fiddled with his earpiece, and began selecting his own guns from the racks set up on the van’s walls, “don't be so pessimistic. We won’t even need to shoot anyone if this mission goes well.”“You sure it’s not optimism?” Iwaizumi smirked.“You’re such a barbarian, Iwa-chan!”“Pretty sure barbarians don’t have such good taste in weaponry.”
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou
Kudos: 113





	if your fancy suit can get destroyed, it will get destroyed

“You sure have a lot of guns for a person who isn’t supposed to be shooting anyone today,” Akaashi commented with a raised eyebrow as Bokuto attempted to stuff another pistol down his trousers. 

Said agent gave up on the trousers and shoved the gun in his inner jacket pocket, adding to the two already in there. “But Akaashi, I always gotta be prepared, y’know? Were you never a boy scout?”

“Nope,” Akaashi replied, deadpan.

Kuroo did little in attempts to hide his snickers, and Bokuto pouted, looking around the comms and supply van to locate his next weapon of choice. He didn’t get too far however, as he was interrupted by Iwaizumi swiping a pistol from his stuffed pockets.

“Hey!” Bokuto whined, “That’s mine.”

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes and slid the gun into a holster hidden under his grey pinstripe jacket, after taking a moment to admire the firearm. It was a rather beautiful one, with brown leather and good weighting, and he felt lucky to have ready access to such valuable weaponry. “As one of the people who will actually be shooting people today, I think I can justify taking it. Plus, you can’t appreciate a well-maintained Walther PPK like this enough to use it properly.”

“Jeez Iwa-chan,” Oikawa tutted as he fiddled with his earpiece, and began selecting his own guns from the racks set up on the van’s walls, “don't be so pessimistic. We won’t even need to shoot anyone if this mission goes well.”

“You sure it’s not optimism?” Iwaizumi smirked.

“You’re such a barbarian, Iwa-chan!”

“Pretty sure barbarians don’t have such good taste in weaponry.”

“But you have similarly awful tastes in fashion.”

“Can you really say that when I’m wearing a five hundred thousand yen fitted Brioni suit?”

“That someone else picked out for you!”

Kenma interrupted from his position at the front of the stationary vehicle, closing his laptop. “Alright, if you can stop bickering for two seconds, we need to review the assignment details before you leave.”

“Yes Mum,” Oikawa grumbled.

“No, Akaashi is the mum. I’m the depressed aunt who doesn’t want to be here.”

The four field agents - Iwaizumi, Oikawa, Kuroo and Bokuto - promptly finished their preparations, weapons concealed and communication devices in place. They gathered around the small table set up in the middle of the van where Akaashi had pulled out various maps and files. Kenma came over from the front to join them.

“Okay. Now, I know you lot like to have your fun and everything, but we need to put all our efforts into staying undercover today in order to successfully find evidence in support of our suspicions against County Finances. You already look the part.” Kenma gestured to their suave new suits, amused eyes lingering on Kuroo’s hair that had already begun to un-style itself, “Mostly. Now you just need to act the part.”

“As you’ve been told,” Akaashi picked up, “this is a wealthy and distinguished finance corporation. In order to dig in deep enough to find the information we want, you must blend in and avoid any suspicious activity. They have enough influence that being caught snooping around and not having found anything to incriminate them could mean we end up in quite a lot of trouble.”

Akaashi sent a stern look towards Bokuto and Kuroo. “That means you two better be on your best behaviour. No giggling or calling each other bro.”

“But we have the most boring job,” Kuroo said with a dramatic sigh. “All we get to do is have a lame conversation with boss-man just to keep him occupied, while those two actually get to kick ass.”

Kenma’s eyelid twitched. “As Oikawa pointed out earlier, kicking ass would be the result of you all being shit at your job. Need I repeat myself again? You need to stay undercover.” He emphasised the last word one syllable at a time.

Akaashi turned to Oikawa and Iwaizumi. “You two need to subtly infiltrate the office of the CEO whom Kuroo-san and Bokuto-san will be keeping busy with the fake inspection meeting we set up. The difficulty is that we don’t actually know what we are looking for.”

“Great,” Iwaizumi muttered sarcastically, and Oikawa removed a hand from behind his head to give him a scolding flick on the shoulder. Iwaizumi elbowed him back.

“Mean, Iwa-chan!”

“I’ve managed to dig up all sorts of shady activity around this company - large payments from abroad, frequent phone calls to local clubs, unexplained resignations and covered up disappearances of staff.” Kenma stared into the distance thoughtfully and his brow crinkled. “I suspect a drug network or human trafficking as the most likely explaination, or both. You need to expose some evidence that I can’t access just through hacking their systems. That is your mission today.”

Oikawa stretched, pulling his long arms above his head, before giving a mock salute. “Yes, sir.”

Iwaizumi rolled his neck and shoulders to loosen them up, and got up from his spot perched on one of the benches. He double-checked his weapons were in place, switched on his comms device, and looked to Oikawa.

He shared a grin with his partner, and they fist-bumped.

“Let’s fucking do this.”

  
  
  


\--------------------

  
  
  


There’s no fucking way we can do this, Iwaizumi thought as he peered nochalantely into the conference room that the dynamic duo was currently occupying the company’s CEO in. Bokuto was enthusiastically gesticulating like his usual self, and Iwaizumi might’ve ordinarily been impressed at the ability of Kuroo’s hair to revert back to its usual bird nest condition regardless of how much styling or gel was used. It was like a shape-memory polymer. Shape-memory hair.

Anyway, Iwaizumi didn’t have a huge amount of confidence in their distraction skills and was itching to hurry up with their task. He strolled back down the empty, carpeted corridor towards the bathroom Oikawa was waiting in, and deemed it currently safe enough to talk to comms.

“Akaashi, was it really a good idea to have Bokuto and Kuroo do this kind of job? It looks like a couple of toddlers accidentally wandered into a NATO meeting.”

He heard a weary sigh over the line. _“I must admit, they wouldn’t have been my first choice, but there was no one else both available and qualified for this level of assignment. And I trust them even less to do your job. If you think their professionalism is bad, their subtlety is even worse. Or at least, Bokuto-san’s is.”_

“Pfft, tell me about it.”

_“By the way, there’s someone heading your way around the next corner so act normal.”_

Iwaizumi hummed lightly in confirmation. He passed the aforementioned man with no problems, sharing a nod and a tight smile with the well-dressed stranger.

Simply looking and acting the part really did open up their options. Reaching the area of the company building they were already in was easy; walking confidently past the attractive reception and smiling and nodding courteously at the people you pass was all it took. No one asks any questions if you look like you’re meant to be there. Frankly, it’s pretty poor security for such a fancy company.

He strolled into the men’s bathrooms and after checking the others stalls were empty, knocked on the closed door of the second to last toilet.

“Taking a dump, Shittykawa?”

The door immediately swung open to reveal Oikawa standing there with a dangerous smile on his face and looking rather dashing in his navy suit.

“Nope, just enjoying some calm time where I don’t have to look at your face. But alas, my bloodthirst has promptly returned.”

Iwaizumi snickered and moved to the side to allow Oikawa to leave the cubical, who immediately went to check his well-coiffed hair in the mirror. “The two idiots are doing a crappy job so we ought to hurry up.”

Akaashi spoke up through their earpieces. _“There is currently no one in the vicinity of the office, so I advise you head over now.”_

“Okie dokie ‘Kaashi-chan.” Oikawa grabbed Iwaizumi’s hand and pulled him over to the bathroom’s exit. “Let’s go, Iwa-chan.”

The pair left together, confident they wouldn’t be observed due to Akaashi’s monitoring of visuals and Kenma’s work looping security footage. They walked a couple of minutes down the pristine corridors in a comfortable silence until they reached the target location. The large dark-wood door luckily didn’t have any windows, and was in a secluded enough area of the building that they could risk breaking in. A golden plaque on the door read, _‘Ishida Tatsuo, CEO’._

Before Iwaizumi could offer, Oikawa had pulled out his lock-picking set and crouched down in front of the door. He poked the necessary tools inside the keyhole and began fiddling around with the mechanism. Iwaizumi stood uselessly to the side, shifting his weight from foot to foot and looking back and forth down the corridors, with nothing better to do.

He was starting to space out while listening to the repetitive clicks and scrapes from Oikawa’s work, until he was startled back to attention by a sudden crackle from his earpiece.

_“Individual coming your way. I repeat, individual coming your way from the east. Hide yourselves quickly, ETA twenty seconds.”_

Iwaizumi swore quietly under his breath and grabbed Oikawa’s arm, who had already pulled his tools from the keyhole and jumped to his feet. He dragged him to a nearby cleaning cupboard, just ten metres or so away, and yanked the door open.

They promptly stuffed themselves inside the dark room, standing on the small patch of floor that wasn’t occupied by buckets or mops. He pulled the door closed quickly but quietly behind them, hoping the incoming person hadn’t rounded the corner in time to see it shut. Iwaizumi’s heart was beating rapidly from the adrenaline, and he slowly let out the breath he had been holding.

Oikawa, who was pressed close against him in the tiny space, shivered slightly as warm air passed his neck. Iwaizumi made eye contact with him, their vision having adjusted enough in the dark to see, and Oikawa smiled slyly. He leaned forward to hold his lips just next to Iwaizumi’s ear.

“Oh, Iwa-chan,” he whispered breathily, “it’s like we’re teenagers again.”

It was Iwaizumi’s turn to shiver, and he gently shushed Oikawa but couldn’t stop the smile pulling at his lips or the flush to his tan cheeks. He moved his hands from where they were still held on his partner’s biceps down to his hips. He pulled him even closer, and they rested their chins on each other’s shoulders in a gentle embrace until the danger passed.

Iwaizumi was vaguely aware of the sound of fading footsteps, and Akaashi spoke up through comms. _“Okay, the threat has passed, you can resume your work now. My apologies for that, she appeared from a nearby room that Kenma has no visuals on. Good job getting yourselves hidden that fast.”_

Oikawa smirked. “Why thank you, ‘Kaashi-chan. We do have good experience with closets.”

Iwaizumi turned around in Oikawa’s arms and opened the door, before stepping out cautiously. Oikawa followed, and they returned to their previous positions in trying to get the office door to unlock.

After some more fiddling on Oikawa’s part, the lock mechanism clicked open and he muttered a celebratory “Yes!” under his breath.

They swung the door open smoothly and entered the office, closing it behind them. It was a large room, with natural light coming in from windows on one wall and an ornate Persian rug covering most of the polished floorboards. There was a rather grand wooden desk facing the door in the centre of the room that was scattered with papers and stationary, but overall appeared well organised, and there was a matching cabinet in the far left corner. This furniture was rather attractive and looked very expensive, but clashed unpleasantly with the standard aluminium filing cabinets that lined the remaining wall space.

Iwaizumi peered up at one of the gaudy paintings hung up on the walls. “This guy has the worst taste in art. Like seriously, Patrick Heron?”

Oikawa scoffed. “While I’m inclined to agree, I don’t think someone who actually likes Bernard Buffet’s work is allowed an opinion on art.”

“His stuff is _impressionistic_. It carries lots of emotion.”

“He paints scary clowns!”

_“All art is bad,”_ Akaashi deadpanned. _“Now get back to work.”_

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes, and began snooping around the desk as Oikawa went over to investigate the cabinet. Everything left on the desk looked like normal, boring finance paperwork, so he went straight to the labelled drawers. Who the fuck is organised enough to actually label their drawers, he thought scornfully as he rifled through ones called _‘Receipts’_ and _‘Personal Finances’_ and _‘Staff Documentation’_ and other boring things

“This guy keeps three spares of the same suit in his office. What does he think is going to be doing? Playing rugby in a three-piece? Fighting spies?”

Iwaizumi snickered. “You never know. Anyway, shush, we’re supposed to be focusing.”

Oikawa pouted and crouched down to rummage through the drawers at the bottom of the dresser. “I hope we don’t have to go through every one of those filing cabinets, that would be boring as hell.”

Choosing to ignore him, Iwaizumi instead focused his attention back to the _‘Bank Statements’_ drawer he was looking through. There was nothing that looked outside of the usual in the stack of papers, and he sighed before closing it. He didn’t bother to look closely at any of the bank statements because Kenma had already managed to access them online, and he didn’t want to waste his time.

He moved down the bottom drawer on the right hand side of the desk, and narrowed his eyes. _‘Confidential’._ Who the hell labels their secrets as ‘Secrets’? Iwaizumi huffed, and muttered, “Fucking amateur.”

He pulled at the bronze drawer handle but it refused to open. Iwaizumi tutted, and pulled out his own set of lockpicks. It took just a few seconds to unlock the mechanism - old locks like that were easy - and he put away his picks while pulling the drawer open.

Inside lay a single large, metal box with the words _‘DO NOT MOVE’_ written in sharpie on the top.

“Oi, I might’ve found something,” Iawaizumi muttered as he reached for the box with a frown. What’s the point in telling someone not to move something suspicious if they’ve already found it? Some stern note isn’t going to put someone off.

Iwaizumi struggled to get a grip on the apparently very heavy box as he strained his biceps in attempts to lift it. Just as he was wondering what on earth it could be made of to be this heavy, there was a snap and the box flew out of the drawer and into his arms. Huh. It turned out the box wasn’t heavy at all, just stuck to the bottom of the drawer somehow. 

Iwaizumi heard a _tick,_ and his frown deepened.

The box emitted another _tick,_ and his heart stopped for a moment.

“SHIT!”

He threw the ticking box back into the drawer it came from and slammed it shut. Iwaizumi was vaguely aware of a voice in his ear but his panicked brain couldn’t comprehend it. With frantic eyes, he leapt to his feet and towards his partner who was looking over from the corner, startled.

“Oika—”

An incredible force shoved him forwards and Iwaizumi felt weightless for a moment. He saw a flash of filing cabinets, and then nothing.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


As Iwaizumi slowly came to awareness, the first thing he noticed was the insistent ringing in his ears. It was loud and annoying and made his head hurt.

That was the next thing. His head hurt like a _bitch_ and he suspected it might be for reasons beyond just the ringing. After becoming aware that his head hurt, he began to notice pains spread over the rest of his body - he definitely had broken ribs, his shoulder didn’t feel right, his skin stung all over, and he didn’t think there was a single inch of his body that wasn’t aching like crazy.

After wondering for a moment why everything was dark, Iwaizumi realised his eyes were still shut. He snapped them open, but quickly squinted them against the light. As his vision began to come into focus, the first thing he saw was Oikawa’s panicked and bloody face above his own. His lips were moving and he looked expectant, albeit worried.

Iwaizumi frowned. He still couldn’t really hear much beyond that persistent ringing, and he let out what was hopefully a questioning groan.

It was Oikawa’s turn to frown and he started lightly slapping Iwaizumi’s cheek, but his expression remained pinched and scared.

Thankfully, the ringing was abating enough that Iwaizumi could finally start to hear things again. He noticed an alarm in the distance, and his partner’s shrill voice.

“—a-chan? Iwa-chan! Hey, look, can you hear me? Iwa?”

“Wha-? Oikawa?”

“Yes!” Oikawa smiled. It was somewhat disturbing considering the tears cutting tracks through blood on his face. There was a particularly nasty gash on one cheekbone. “It’s me. Thank God. Jesus, Iwa-chan, don’t do that to me!”

“Sorry,” Iwaizumi muttered as he tried to push himself up on his elbows. He stopped short, hissing, as sharp pain emanated from his left shoulder and shot down his arm.

“Iwa-chan? Are you okay?”

“Dislocated shoulder,” Iwaizumi said through gritted teeth.

Oikawa helped him to a sitting position, and his vision swam from the pain of shifting his broken ribs. His head didn’t help either, making him feel dizzy and nauseous. He was probably slightly concussed. After taking a minute to get a hold of himself, Iwaizumi asked, “Hey, are _you_ okay?”

“I’ve had worse. And so have you.” Oikawa gave a grim smile. “Don’t think I’m going to be doing much walking though.

Iwaizumi spotted the broken ankle at the end of Oikawa’s outstretched leg and winced in sympathy. He also noticed the way he was cradling his chest, probably harbouring a broken rib or two of his own. For the first time since waking up, Iwaizumi assessed his surroundings.

The room was a wreck; filing cabinets toppled across the floor, glass blown out of the windows, the poor Persian rug charred beyond recognition. The desk had been completely obliterated by the stupid bomb, but Iwaizumi now felt like it deserved to die. The room’s structural integrity remained suspiciously intact - there should’ve at least been a bit of a hole in the nearby wall, and definitely one the floor. It must be reinforced somehow.

“A fucking trap. And here I was calling them amateurs.” 

Iwaizumi used a fallen cabinet and his good arm to painstakingly haul himself to his feet. He breathed raggedly through gritted teeth as his ribs jabbed at places they weren’t supposed to, shooting sharp pain through his body. His head pounded, and for the first time he noticed the impressive collection of cuts and splinters scattering the backs of his legs - that must’ve been desk shrapnel. His legs stung painfully but he was able to endure it. Oikawa was right, they’d been through worse.

“Careful, Iwa-chan.”

“We need to get out of here, Oikawa. Do you have contact with anyone else?”

Oikawa shook his head and held out his broken earpiece. Iwaizumi noticed that his own was missing from his ear, and began half-heartedly scanning the debry for it. After a few moments of searching, his gaze landed on the small device partially hidden by a chunk of desk.

He let out a chuckle of disbelief. “You little bugger.”

Iwaizumi squatted down slowly to pick up his earpiece, wincing as the movement pulled at the cuts in his legs and made his ribs ache horribly. Miraculously, he heard voices as he inserted the object into his ear.

_“—isuals are all down, and we’ve not heard anything from them. I can’t even tell what’s happened, aside from the obvious.”_

Akaashi’s voice was followed by Kuroo’s, who must’ve been added to the connection at some point.

_“Look, you can’t stop us from following! Whatever trouble they’re in now, they’re going to be in a whole lot more if we don’t hurry up after that guy.”_

_“Yeah, it’s not like our cover hasn’t already been blown. Like, literally.”_

Iwaizumi couldn’t help rolling his eyes lightly at Bokuto as he switched on the input on the battered earpiece.

“This is Iwaizumi, do you receive?”

Three voices burst to life at once, so he took that as a yes.

“Oikawa and I are injured but alive. Bastard set a trap, for how long it had been there I don't know. We’re going to try to find an exit, though Oikawa’s comms are dow—”

Kenma’s urgent voice cut him short. _“Listen, you’ve got the target coming your way. Kuroo managed to slip a tracker on the guy and now he’s heading straight for you. We have no visuals because the camera systems are down so we have no real idea of what’s going on. Be prepared. ETA of target, ten seconds.”_

Iwaizumi swore, and looked frantically between Oikawa, the door and the window, his rattled brain working more slowly than usual. All he could do before the door slammed open was pull a pistol from his jacket pocket.

There were three men wearing suits standing in the doorway, all of them holding guns with fingers resting on triggers. The man in the middle wore that same boring black three-piece Oikawa had found in the cabinet, and he had an irritating smirk plastered on his face. It was Ishida Tatsuo.

Iwaizumi held up his gun with his right arm, training it on the CEO of Country Finances. His mind raced, wondering whether he could shoot them all before getting shot himself.

Ishida swiftly adjusted his aim to point his weapon towards where Oikawa was sitting on the floor, whose hand froze halfway towards his jacket pocket. “Don’t move or we’ll shoot.” He looked to Iwaizumi. “Drop the gun. The moment your finger twitches on that trigger there’ll be a bullet in your friend’s brain and my men will have you bleeding out on the floor.”

Iwaizumi felt his face twist in anger and frustration, and he gave the bastard a glare. He made eye contact with Oikawa, who grimaced and gave a subtle shake of his head. He looked back to the men. He was too far away to disarm them or get in close without being shot. They had three guns out, he had one. They were mobile, and he and Oikawa were certainly not.

With a growl, Iwaizumi let his gun drop to the floor.

Immediately, the three of them dashed forward, and Iwaizumi could do nothing as Ishida shoved him against the wall with a forearm pressed to his throat. The back of his head smacked the wall, and he gasped as it throbbed almost unbearably. His vision tunnelled and for a few moments all he could see was Ishida’s lined, sneering face and over-gelled black hair. Iwaizumi felt him rummaging around in his clothing, pulling out all the concealed guns and throwing them to the other side of the room.

After spending some time fighting a wave of nausea and waiting for his vision to clear, Iwaizumi saw that Oikawa had been similarly disarmed. One of the other men had tightened a zip tie around his wrists, and was holding him against the wall by his shoulder.

“Now,” Ishida smiled unpleasantly, “You’re going to tell me who you work for and why you are here, without any more funny business. I must say, I was quite surprised when I heard that bomb go off. I only ever had it there for insurance, really. Although of course, I suspected something was going on when those so-called inspectors first opened their mouths.”

Iwaizumi managed a strained grin. “Congratulations, you just incriminated yourself. We didn’t have too much to go off before, but possession of unlicensed and unlabelled explosives? That’ll certainly warrant an official government investigation.”

Ishida snarled and pressed his arm deeper into his throat, cutting off his airways.

“Don’t try to act all smart. I have power and influence, and no one will listen to what someone like you has to sa—” 

The man froze, a muscle twitching in his forehead, and brought up his other hand to rip the earpiece from Iwaizumi’s ear. He promptly dropped it to the floor and crushed it under one of his polished Oxfords.

It wasn’t much of a loss to Iwaizumi, really. He hadn’t been paying any attention to comms, focusing instead on not passing out as he struggled to breathe through the chokehold.

Ishida looked venomous as he moved his face close to Iwaizumi’s own and spat out, “Who do you work for?”

Ignoring the pungent smell of the man’s cologne, Iwaizumi bared his teeth and managed a choked, “Fuck you.”

Next thing he knew, there was a fist in his gut. Any air he might’ve still had in his lungs was forced out and he felt a couple of ribs move even further out of place. The pain was blinding. He might have blacked out for a moment from the agony in his ribs, as he blinked away darkness to find himself slumped on the floor with the arm on his throat gone. Iwaizumi desperately gasped in air despite the further pain it caused his ribs.

He noticed Ishida had moved over to Oikawa, and was crouched down in front of him. “I hope you can provide a more sensible answer.”

But Oikawa wasn’t paying attention, instead looking over at Iwaizumi with a pinched brow and pursed lips. They connected eyes for a moment, before a heavy punch landed on Oikawa’s face, snapping it to the side. Ishida punched him again, fist connecting with his nose and releasing a stream of blood.

Iwaizumi bristled. He attempted to ignore his ribs and struggled to pull himself to his feet.

Ishida had pulled Oikawa closer with his shirt collar. “Speak, or you’ll regret it.”

Oikawa stared impassively into the man’s eyes and said nothing.

Ishida scowled, got to his feet, and proceeded to stamp a foot down onto his broken ankle.

His partner let out an agonised scream and Iwaizumi saw red, his own pains temporarily forgotten. He staggered up and was about to stumble forward, to do what, he didn’t know. Anything to stop them hurting Oikawa. Except from the corner of his eye he spotted a gun sitting in the rubble, one that must have fallen out of one of their pockets during the explosion. It was the Walther PPK. He scooped it up, flicked off the safety, and pointed it at Ishida.

“Stop.”

Iwaizumi’s gun was trembling and he brought up his left hand to stabilise his aim, briefly forgetting about his dislocated shoulder. There was an audible pop and new, hot pain flared up as the joint slipped back into place. He hissed but maintained his hold on the gun.

His target turned around, smirked, and lifted his foot from Oikawa’s ankle. But then a gun was pushed against his temple where his chestnut hair was already matted with blood. Iwaizumi tensed and tightened his grip on his own gun, terrified of provoking a bullet in Oikawa’s head. He was debating his next move when Ishida made the decision for him. He gestured to one of his henchmen, who aimed his pistol, and there was the piercing bang of a gunshot.

A bullet buried itself in Iwaizumi’s thigh, and he dropped forward like a sack of potatoes. His gun was long forgotten; all he could pay attention to was the pain of torn muscle in his leg and Oikawa’s panicked yelling.

“Iwa-chan!”

Iwaizumi ground his face into the floor groaned through clenched teeth as he rode out the massive wave of pain. He was aware of the puddle of blood rapidly forming underneath him. He managed to roll onto his side in time to see a struggling Oikawa get kicked in the stomach.

“Tell me what I want to know, and maybe I’ll consider finding your friend here some help. Your alternative is watching him bleed to death.”

Oikawa’s wide, watery eyes met Iwaizumi’s own, and in that moment he felt utterly hopeless. He was already starting to feel lightheaded and knew the two of them had no chance of fighting them off now.

“Tooru,” he murmured weakly, dragging himself slowly towards him.

Oikawa was starting to cry. “Hajime.”

Ishida was just opening his stupid mouth to say something else when a bullet tore through his head and splattered his brains on the wall behind.

Iwaizumi startled at the gunshot, while Ishida’s two guards began to swing their guns around towards the source but collapsed to the floor as they were simultaneously shot in the head. 

Standing side-by-side in the doorway were Bokuto and Kuroo, both wielding steaming guns.

“Told you it’s good to be prepared.”

Ignoring Bokuto’s comment, Iwaizumi released a shaky chuckle and rolled over to lay flat on his back, revelling in the feeling of relief. His head pounded and he cringed. “Took you long enough.”

Kuroo moved to crouch next to him while Bokuto did the same with Oikawa, and immediately began wrapping his heavily bleeding thigh tightly with his jacket. “So much for undercover, eh?” Kuroo’s smirk was strained.

Iwaizumi winced at the pressure on his wound but managed a tight smile of his own. “Shut up.”

Bokuto updated Akaashi and Kenma through his functioning earpiece, and gathered up the guns and other evidence of their involvement from around the room.

Iwaizumi accepted the immediate medical attention, and then looped his arms around Kuroo’s neck and allowed himself to be lifted off the floor. His ribs and shoulder protested but he was able to settle relatively comfortably on his friend’s back. He made eye contact with Oikawa who had been similarly lifted into a piggy back ride by Bokuto, and this time they smiled faintly to each other.

Kuroo and Bokuto set off down the corridor and made their way to a back entrance of the building by Akaashi’s instruction, so as to avoid the police and firefighters who had been called in response to the explosion.

It was a struggle for Iwaizumi to stay awake, as his lightheadedness and lethargy worsened in response to his still depleting blood supply. However, riding on Kuroo’s back as he jogged towards safety was jarring his ribs terribly and the sharp stabs of pain helped to improve his awareness.

The last thing he saw before slipping into unconsciousness was their black comms and supply van pulling up next to them on the street outside that godforsaken building.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Iwaizumi woke to the sound of beeping. He recognised it quickly - it was not his first time being hospitalised, after all. When he opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was the white walls of their organisation’s hospital ward as expected.

He shifted in attempts to judge his body’s condition, feeling tight bindings around his torso and thigh, and bandages wrapped around his head. His head felt filled with cotton and he was sleepy, but felt no pain thanks to whatever drugs were circulating his system. 

“Iwa-chan.”

Iwaizumi turned his stiff neck to the right and saw Oikawa lying in the hospital bed next to his own, bathed in the soft evening light. His hair looked fluffy and clean, and he smiled fondly, fresh stitches on his cheek shifting slightly. Iwaizumi smiled back. His arm felt heavy, but he slipped it out from under the covers and let it dangle between their beds.

Oikawa took his hand and held it firmly. “I love you, Hajime.”

His chest tightened with affection, and Iwaizumi squeezed his partner’s hand.

“I love you too, idiot.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I actually feel really happy about this and I hope you enjoyed it too. <3 :))))
> 
> p.s. screw covid


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